


The Distance Between Us

by murphysvictim (feelingisfirst)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Episode Fix-It: s03e07 Thirteen, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Lexa Lives, M/M, basically canon s3 until titus starts shooting, more ships and characters to come as they appear, then i take over
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8116276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelingisfirst/pseuds/murphysvictim
Summary: Lexa isn't shot, and her blockade is enforced. As a result, Clarke is forced away from Lexa and Polis and back to the Ark. There, she must help the Arkadians to meet the Commander's conditions and defeat Alie. Most importantly, however, she must find her way back to Lexa.Or: Life really is about more than just surviving.





	1. Homecomings

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been angry since March 3rd, and an idea has been brewing.
> 
> After months of brainstorming, outlining, and writing, this is what I'm left with. The Distance Between Us is meant to take over for the show completely; the idea is that it picks up right before Lexa dies and ties up the established plot lines of season 3 in what is hopefully a significantly more satisfactory way. As such, it is written in the style of the show. We cannot see inside anyone's head, and we jump from character to character.
> 
> None of this would ever have happened without my right hand Sys (systematic_alchemy here on Ao3). Without her, this all would have stayed in my head.
> 
> I hope that reading this will be half as cathartic for you as writing it is for me.

_We are the last people standing_  
_At the end of the night._  
_We are the greatest pretenders_  
_In the cold morning light._  
_This is just another night,_  
_And we’ve had many of them._  
_To the morning we’re cast out,_  
_But I know I’ll land here again._  
_How am I gonna get myself back home?_  
“Get Home” by Bastille

When Clarke flung open the door of her Polis bedroom, no one was on the other side.

She hesitated for a moment, sparing only a short glance over her shoulder for Murphy who was still tied, gagged, and grunting frantically, but when Titus let off another wide shot, Clarke ran scrambling through the door. She sprinted breathlessly down the halls along the path she knew so well, instinctively half hunched over to avoid the bullets she expected would soon follow Titus’ pounding footsteps behind her. She swung around a corner too wide, fingers grappling uselessly at the wall as she attempted to make the bend, and nearly knocked into a Grounder warrior. Clarke was well clear of him by the time she heard Titus’ similarly shuffling steps round the corner, but the Grounder guard immediately backed away when he saw the gun still brandished awkwardly in Titus’ hand. Clarke slammed into the door to Lexa’s bedroom before she could fully bring herself to a stop. Her shaky hands barely managed to get a firm enough grasp on the handle to yank the door open.

Lexa stood at the side of the bed, already reaching for where her sword leaned against the wall, when Clarke turned on her heel and shoved the door closed behind her before dropping to the ground.

“Get down, Lexa!” she barked before she had even latched the door. She was panting and pressed flat against the floor instantly, staring with a steely gaze back in the direction she had come.

Lexa plummeted to the ground almost as swiftly as her eyes widened in surprise.

They lay together, feet apart, in shocked silence while Clarke attempted to catch her breath for several long moments, but no more gunshots rang out through the tower. Clarke’s breathing finally started to even out while Lexa watched.

“Clarke?” Lexa ventured, unsure. She shifted up onto her elbows, ready to leap off the ground at a moment’s notice, her sword resting loosely under her hand.

“Your fucking _fleimkepa_ is insane!” Clarke hissed, wrenching her head around to glare at Lexa, who, still imperiously calm, merely arched an eyebrow. “He kidnapped one of my friends, waited for me in my room, and shot at me! With a gun! He was going to frame Murphy for it so you would forgive him!”

“Titus!” Lexa shouted, instantly rising to her feet and stalking to the door. She was settling her sword into the holster on her hip and heading past Clarke when Clarke, who had quickly climbed to her feet as well, clapped a hand to Lexa’s wrist. Lexa froze mid-step.

“Lexa, don’t. Hold on, not yet. He won’t do anything now that he knows that I’ve told you.” Clarke dropped her hand as soon as Lexa stopped. Her words were as frustrated as they were frantic.

Lexa frowned slightly at Clarke, but her expression relaxed as she saw the truth in her words. She turned and sighed, reaching out to Clarke as though to touch her before pulling back. “You must hurry and go now to get beyond the line in time, Clarke. You should have already left.” Lexa was speaking softly; she had slipped from shock to Heda and back to Lexa in moments.

“I would have already left,” Clarke grumbled, brushing her flyaway hair from her face, “but someone had other plans.” She was pointedly avoiding Lexa’s gaze, shifting from foot to foot in the wake of their shared intimacy and her draining adrenaline.

Lexa tentatively pushed a strand of golden hair that Clarke had missed from her brow. When she instantly smiled and leaned into the gentle touch, Lexa grew more bold and cupped Clarke’s cheek as she rubbed her thumb over her cheekbone. “Listen to me, Clarke. You and I have already spent too long here, Titus aside. We’ve wasted too much of your time.” To contrast her words, however, Lexa closed the distance between them and settled her free hand on Clarke’s hip. She was telling her to go even as she pulled her closer. “You need to take this Murphy and leave, now, or you will be cutting your travel much too close. If you go to the stable and take the time to saddle another horse for your friend, but then immediately go, you will still be able to make it.”

“It wasn’t wasted time,” Clarke said seriously and finally looked up to meet Lexa’s eyes. Her hand instinctively sought out where Lexa was still loosely cupping her hip.

They took a long moment to look into each other’s eyes, smiles threatening to spread across both of their faces at the memory. Lexa pulled Clarke to her with the hand on her face and kissed her with her lips trembling and her eyes fluttering closed. They kissed gently, lovingly, saying goodbye with their mouths but without words. Lexa made to pull away after only a moment, but Clarke held on tighter, drawing her closer by the hand she had splayed open across the plane of Lexa’s back. Lexa’s body bowed under Clarke’s touch, still shaking with the overwhelming intensity of their connection, and Clarke was not left much better. She was steady but not convincingly so.

After only a few moments more, Lexa finally pulled away, resting her forehead against her lover’s and panting in the wake of their kiss. “Go, Clarke. Hurry. I will take care of Titus, and I will see you again,” she said, but she did not pull herself any further from Clarke’s touch.

Clarke wrenched back from Lexa’s hand to stare into her eyes, expression firm against her sadness.

“Soon,” Lexa added quietly, her eyes searching the depths of Clarke’s blatant, blue stare. “We will see each other again soon.”

Clarke smiled, ducking her head to leave one last chaste kiss on Lexa’s mouth. She then quickly turned her back on Lexa, jerking her eyes from the sight of the Commander before she was tempted to stay longer. “May we meet again,” Clarke said quietly as she lifted her chin and set her jaw. She threw open the door, and Titus stood just outside, head down and gun loose in his hand. Clarke jerked the gun from his hand wordlessly and kept walking.

“May we meet again,” Lexa quietly replied even as she turned her gaze, suddenly furious once more, on her f _leimkepa_.

\---

Octavia stood with her back against a crumbling brick wall, arms crossed over her chest, and eyes on the setting sun. Her muscles were taut, vibrating with energy and anxiety. She blinked and scrunched her eyes tightly closed, paused for a long moment, then opened them and swiveled her head to check all around her. She was still alone. “Come on, Clarke, please,” she muttered, voice hoarse. “Don’t do this.” The minutes ticked by, however, and Octavia was still alone. Finally, infuriated, she jerked herself upright and reached over her shoulder to adjust her sword. She sighed, squared her stance, and set off for the stables alone.

“ _Okteivia kom Skaikru_!”

Octavia whirled on her heels, scrambling for her sword, before she recognized Indra walking towards her. She instantly relaxed her muscles but began to fight the urge to grin.

Indra walked tall, chin up and stance proud despite her arm hanging heavily in its sling. She was wearing the attire befitting her rank as a close advisor to the Commander, and although her wounded arm swung with each step, her face betrayed no flickers of pain or shame.

Octavia finally allowed a smile to break across her face. “Indra,” she said, and opened her mouth to say more but cut herself short. She dipped her head in a purposeful show of respect.

“Clarke?” Indra asked, looking for her as she came abreast with Octavia.

Octavia sharply shook her head. She was genuinely fighting now to bite back the harsh words that were obviously threatening to spill from her lips. She turned to face away from Indra and back towards the stables instead.

Indra heaved a sigh and licked her lips. “We need to go. Now.”

“So let’s go,” Octavia said. Her face was stony as she and Indra made their way across Polis.

\---

Clarke crossed the distance to her old room in long strides. She threw open the door and, this time, was unsurprised to find Murphy there, still irritated and nonsensically grunting for help, tied to a toppled chair. Clarke knelt before him and set down the gun, all business. “Are you hurt?” she asked as she tugged the gag from his mouth. She pulled the dagger from its holster on her hip and crawled behind him to unbind his hands.

“What the fuck was that?” Murphy barked as soon as he swallowed.

Clarke shook her head behind him. “I’ll take that as a no, then,” she quipped as she sawed her knife up through the cloth connecting his hands.

“Who is that dick? I've had enough of him.” Murphy continued, unperturbed, even as his now-free hands start to work at the knot connecting one of his ankles to his chair.

“We need to get to the stables as soon as possible.” Clarke said over him, hacking through the knot around his opposite ankle. “You don’t know where that is,” she realized as an afterthought, even as she was already on her feet and crossing her room. Her face was calm and unreadable.

“Oh, so this is the game we’re playing,” Murphy grumbled, finally finishing the knot around his ankle and scrambling free of his chair. “You run around and let me get shot at, and then think you don’t have to answer my questions.”

“Have you ever ridden a horse?” Clarke asked, grabbing her gun from the nightstand, checking the safety, and then nestling it down into the waistband of her jeans. “Do you have any weapons?”

Murphy swept up the gun she had left on the floor and tucked it into the back of his pants. “This one’s mine. They took it off me when I was first invited here.” The biting sarcasm Murphy inflicted on his words was cloying, but if Clarke noticed, she didn’t comment.

She was stuffing clothes down into a satchel and had already swung the strap up and over her head before she realized Murphy hadn’t answered her other question. “Horses?” Clarke prodded.

“Of course I haven’t ridden a fucking horse before. Have you?”

Clarke laughed and brushed past him and out the door. “Yes, and you’re about to learn as well.”

Murphy trailed along behind Clarke, head down and eyes studiously averted from every Grounder they passed. “Do you know how to get out of here?”

Clarke laughed humorlessly then pressed her lips into a thin line. “Murphy, I’ve been living here for the better part of a month.”

That caught Murphy’s attention. His head jerked up as he froze and then jogged to catch up with her. She was the one carefully avoiding eye contact now. “A month, Clarke? You’ve been gone from camp for a month?”

Clarke laughed again, even more bitterly than before. This time, she turned to look at Murphy. “No, I’ve been in Polis for a month. I left camp only two weeks after you did.”

Murphy’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened but, thanks to the steely look on her face, he let the subject drop. “Okay, so you have no better idea what’s going on there than I do. That’s a comfort at least.”

Clarke smiled wryly at the idea.

Murphy huffed out a laugh. “Alright, so I should just shut up, I guess, because I clearly have no clue what I’m talking about.”

“That’s about right,” Clarke agreed good-naturedly. Her hand was ghosting over the suddenly unfamiliar sensation of the gun at her back.

They had reached the elevator and stepped in; Clarke moved without a second thought, but Murphy hesitated at the threshold.

Clarke motioned him forward with a jerk of her head. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste. We still may be able to catch Octavia if we hurry.” She knocked twice on the edge of the elevator and then grabbed hold of the railing.

“Octavia’s here?” Murphy asked, jerking to hold on to the wall as the elevator ground into motion. “Wait, no, I know. I shouldn’t be so surprised. Is Bellamy here too, then? Lincoln?”

Clarke shifted the bag further up her shoulder, once again avoiding Murphy’s eyes. “Lincoln’s at the Ark, I think. Bellamy is...Bellamy and Octavia don’t get along very well anymore, from what I’ve seen.”

Murphy shook his head. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence until the elevator finally hit the ground, and Clarke took off at a jog through the streets of Polis. “You know what a horse is, right, Murphy?” She called over her shoulder, because Murphy, unprepared for Clarke’s pace, had fallen behind.

“Do I know what a horse - of course I know what a horse is, Clarke. I didn’t sleep through all of my classes,” Murphy grumbled, easily catching up to Clarke in big loping strides.

“You’re full of surprises,” Clarke muttered, rounding the corner into the stable and motioning the stable hand towards her. “I need another horse, please,” Clarke told him even as she began saddling up Lexa’s bay stallion. “Selu,” Clarke specified without sparing a glance from her work, and the groomsman quickly moved towards the black mare that Clarke usually favored. “You’ll take her, Murphy,” she explained, swinging up onto the stallion’s back. The horse struggled under Clarke’s body but eventually settled down. “Kanati barely tolerates me,” Clarke explained as she shifted her bag around her body to rest on the saddle behind her.

“Naturally,” Murphy said, utterly nonplussed, as he reached out a tentative hand to Selu’s nose. The horse snuffled, pulling away from Murphy’s touch almost as quickly as Murphy himself retreated.

“ _Odon, Wanheda_ ,” the Grounder said and stepped out of the stable.

Clarke nodded to the groomsman and then jerked her head again, motioning Murphy towards the horse.

Murphy stared at her for a long moment before grudgingly heading towards the horse. He tried to grab ahold of the saddle but couldn’t find a good grip and decided instead to glare suspiciously at the stirrup.

“We don’t have time for this,” Clarke snapped and shifted anxiously atop her horse.

Murphy threw up his hands as he glared at her over the horse’s back. “I’m sorry that I’ve lived on a fucking space station my whole life,” Murphy hissed, finally grabbing ahold of the horn and taking a running jump at the saddle. He landed face down with his stomach across the saddle and had to wiggle and grunt quite a bit before he was finally astride the horse. “Well isn’t this just the most uncomfortable thing ever,” Murphy muttered even as Clarke nudged Kanati ahead of Murphy and out of the stable.

“Squeeze her with your knees,” Clarke said without looking back, and Murphy did.

Selu jumped forward in response, bumping into Kanati’s rump, and Murphy quickly lessened the strength of his legs.

“Grab the ropes in both hands,” Clarke added, and he was forced to scramble to find the reins that he hadn’t even noticed yet.

Luckily for him, Selu appeared to be following Kanati instinctively and even quickly started to trot when Clarke urged Kanati faster. Since the stables were situated near the outskirts of town, Murphy and Clarke were able to quickly clear the streets of Polis and enter the forest.

“Kick with your heels, not too hard,” Clarke told Murphy. He immediately did, and Selu flew forward, dropping instantly into a gallop apace with Kanati and Clarke. “Hold on!” Clarke added several seconds too late, after Murphy had already nearly fallen off backwards.

“Alright, we’re out of town and headed home at fucking breakneck speed,” Murphy said a little too loudly when he had finally righted himself. “Now tell me what’s going on!”

“Why were you with Titus?” Clarke asked as she leaned low over Kanati’s neck as though to urge him that much faster.

“Not this again!” Murphy shouted, and then shame-facedly lowered his voice. “I have spent the last 48 hours getting tortured for information about you. The least you can do is answer my questions first!”

Clarke sighed, dropping her head to let her chin rest against her chest for a moment. “Fine,” she said as she straightened. “I’m going to need you on my side anyway. It’s a long story, though, so pay attention.”

\---

“Miller?” Bellamy’s voice was loud and designed to garner attention.

Miller jerked up, startled out of his doze at his current post in the guard tower at Arkadia’s gate. He blinked quickly, adjusting the gun that rested against his hip and lifting one hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry, man. You know it gets boring up here. Nothing ever happens anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it. Do you have a minute?” Bellamy shot a glance over his shoulder, but the coast was still clear. Miller was the only other one in the watch tower right now, and all the other members of the guard were on the ground.

Miller arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t I just telling you how lame it is up here?” “I need your help. You can do subtle, right?” Bellamy was still both visibly anxious and not looking at Miller. Now he was scanning the grounds of the Ark, eyes darting quickly from person to person.

Miller chuckled loudly, and Bellamy’s attention jerked up to him. “I was in the skybox for stealing, Bell, and they didn’t catch me ‘til I was 16. I’d been doing it for a half a dozen years by then. I’m the goddamn king of subtle.”

Bellamy cracked a smile at that. “Alright, Miller, I hear you. Tone down the ego. Listen, the Chancellor’s given me a, uh,” he inched closer to Miller and dropped his voice to a quiet rumble, “special mission, I guess. He thinks Kane’s been feeding information to O and the Grounders. I’m supposed to find him, bring him in for Pike to talk to. I’m gonna need some help actually bringing him in though, which is where you come in. I’m gonna wait ‘til I can catch him alone, then I’ll give you a head’s up, and we’ll bring him into lock-up. I’m trying to avoid making a scene out of it, you know?”

Miller nodded quickly, short and sharp, to show he had heard, but his eyes had widened.

“Don’t worry, Nate. We’re just gonna ask him some questions,” Bellamy reassured him, reaching a hand out as though to rest on Miller’s shoulder and then diverting at the last second.

Miller smiled feebly, but his eyebrows were furrowed. “Of course. No problem. Just, uh, give me the word, and I’ll be right there.”

\---

The horses were dripping sweat and fighting the reins. Clarke’s voice was hoarse from telling her story when she finally pulled back on Kanati to bring him to a walk.

Murphy struggled for a moment before Selu finally slowed to match pace, and the two rode in almost companionable silence for a while before Murphy spoke up. “Aren’t we racing the Commander’s death clock?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and turned on her steed to begin digging through her bag behind her. “You could say that. Even horses must rest, though. We can’t afford to stop, and we can’t even afford to walk for long, but we can give them a little bit of a break before we start up again.” Clarke pulled a shawl from her bag. She wrapped it several times around her neck and then pulled it up over her head and tucked her hair back into the folds of the fabric. “Either way, we need to talk at less than a shout for a moment.”

Murphy nodded at that, his face showing marginal amusement. “Fair enough, princess,” Murphy said, and Clarke grimaced at the return of the nickname. “I’m sure you’d rather not shout your love for the Commander of the 12 clans into the night, especially with a bounty on our heads.”

Clarke physically startled and turned in her saddle to stare wide-eyed at Murphy. “I am not in love with Lexa,” Clarke hissed.

“You just called her Lexa,” Murphy returned, unperturbed. He wasn’t even looking at her, eyes instead firmly focused on the narrow path they followed through the pitch-black woods. “Interesting. I would have guessed her name was something scarier. Killer, maybe. Or Buster.”

“I am-” Clarke sputtered, taken aback. She jerked back around in her saddle and tugged on the reins so tightly that Kanati threw his head. “I am not in love with Lexa.” Having said her piece twice now, she clenched her jaw pointedly looked away.

“The library in the skybox was small,” Murphy said.

Despite herself, Clarke turned back to look at him again. She had been taken further off guard by his complete non-sequitur.

“It was even smaller than the one in gen pop. I’m guessing you never saw it, being in solitary and all?” Murphy wasn’t looking at her. He was watching the movements of Selu’s ears as she flicked them back and forth, listening for a command in _Trigedasleng_.

Clarke nodded mutely, although Murphy didn’t see it.

“Anyway, it was all educational bullshit, I think because they weren’t bothering to give us classes. Like maybe it’ll take some of the load off their guilty consciences, like at least they gave a bunch of juvie kids the opportunity to teach ourselves before they killed us off on our 18th birthdays. I dunno.” He shifted in the saddle. His movements were as gentle as the quiet, regretful murmur of his words. “Anyway, I tried to read a lot. I was bored. I was in there for a long time, a lot longer than most - longer than you. By the time we came down here, I’d read almost all of the stuff in that stupid library at least once, which is saying something for me, because reading’s hard as hell. My favorites were the stuff by Shakespeare, ‘cause it always took me a bunch of tries before I could figure out what the hell he was saying. It took up a lot of time, reading that stuff over and over again, but it wasn’t like I was reading the same thing, because I’d understand something new each time. It was like a bunch of stories in one. Plus, lots of people died, so it was as close as I could get to some action. Anyway, there’s a line in one of his stories, I don’t remember which, he says, ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”

“Hamlet,” Clarke said quietly. During his monologue, she had been watching him intently, but once he began the quote, she had looked quickly back to the trail.

“Yeah,” Murphy agreed, cracking his neck. “Hamlet.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Clarke said, and she cast a glance towards Murphy who now had his eyes on her, straining to see her through the dark.

“I dunno,” Murphy said, shrugging, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think it matters a lot.”

“I’ll never see her again,” Clarke rejoined, suddenly aggressive.

“Says who?” Murphy scoffed. “As far as I’ve gathered, all we’ve gotta do is kill the old Earth Skills teacher, and then you two can go back to your little love nest, no problem.”

There was silence for a long moment, both of their heads hanging low. “Do you really think that?” Clarke finally asked, quiet.

“I do,” Murphy said, voice completely devoid of emotion. “Well, after we kill the bitch in the red dress, that is. We’ve got a lot of killing to do, but then, yeah, you can totally shack up with her.”

Clarke pulled her shawl further forward over her face. Her expression was twisting into something approaching devastation, and she was rapidly blinking back the wetness gathering in her eyes. “Murphy, back in the beginning... When...When Wells died. I wasn’t thinking. He was my best friend. I was so angry at him, at everyone, I-”

“You weren’t angry at Charlotte,” Murphy suddenly ground out. His voice was harsh and choked. “Not as angry as I should have been,” Clarke agreed, taking the brunt of Murphy’s anger like a wave breaking over her.

“Not as angry as I was at you.” There was another long silence as Clarke watched the tension slowly release out of Murphy’s body from the corner of her eye. “I think...I think that maybe Charlotte got what she might have deserved, in the end,” Clarke said quietly, so low that it was barely audible over the steady hoofbeats below them.

“I know she did,” Murphy responded instantly, voice incredibly loud in the quiet of the moment.

“But you didn’t,” Clarke returned just as quickly. “You didn’t get what you deserved.”

The silence hung heavy for several moments longer. Murphy started to crack his knuckles one by one, and at that, Clarke straightened in her saddle.

“The horses have had long enough. We need to hurry if we’re going to make it there by dawn.” Without waiting for a response from Murphy, she kicked her heels into Kanati’s sides. “Anyway, it’s your turn. Where have you been?”

\---

The trees were alive, rustling with noise and movement despite the reality that only greenery and dirt were visible for as far as could be seen around Arkadia. Slowly, the Grounder army began to move into place. It was a trickle of movement at first, one or two Grounders riding up on their horses and dismounting just within the tree line. This first wave of scouts was soon joined by a larger group of warriors riding horses which drug behind them pallets of tents, unlit torches, and food. They all made themselves busy setting up tents and starting fires.

Eventually the guards of Arkadia began to notice. They talked amongst themselves, pointing and muttering, quietly second-guessing whether or not what they saw spiraling just above the trees was smoke.

“Should we tell the Chancellor?” One guard asked another, and Miller forced a chuckle as he climbed down the ladder leading to the watch tower to make room for the guard who waited at the base to take his place.

“What, that we think we might maybe see a little bit of smoke?” Miller interrupted, gesturing out towards the trees. His forced bravado was loud and stiff. “Sure, if you want to be the one to go knock on his door and wake him up, be my guest.”

The other guards shrugged, and Miller headed back into the Ark, throwing worried glances over his shoulder with every step.

\---

Octavia and Indra reached the border on breathless horses only a few hours shy of dawn.

“We made good time,” Indra noted, her face betraying nothing.

Octavia nodded as their horses carefully picked through the beginnings of the Grounder camp towards Arkadia. “Where will you stay the night?” She asked, looking to Indra with deference.

“I’ll be fine, Octavia. If need be, I will sleep below the stars,” Indra replied, unworried. “Will you find somewhere to stay?” She turned to look at Octavia with that, the slight hint of concern all but buried on her stoic features.

Octavia smiled softly. “Of course. I may even be back in my own room tonight. We’ll see.”

Indra pulled her horse up short and swung down, and Octavia moved to dismount Helios, but Indra waved her to a stop. “Go, Octavia of the Sky People. The others will allow your presence now because it is before the blockade is to begin, but they know that you are not one of us. I’ll say goodbye to you from atop your horse.”

Octavia glanced around her, suddenly aware of the murmurs and stares that followed her slow path through the Grounder camp. “Goodbye, Indra,” Octavia said, voice low.

Indra patted Helios’ flank and turned to tug her horse away from Octavia to find herself a place to sleep for the night. “Goodbye,” she responded without looking back.

“Thank you,” Octavia said, a little louder, as she nudged Helios forward through the trees.

“ _Chof, Okteivia kom Skaikru,_ ” Indra called after her, just barely loud enough for Octavia to hear.

When she looked back, Indra had already walked away.

Octavia urged Helios forward, and soon they broke free of the trees and into a trot towards Arkadia. Octavia quickly rose her hands above her head once she was within sight of the guards at the gate, but Helios knew where he was headed and followed a straight course without her direction.

“It’s Octavia!” She started calling as soon as she saw the guns raised towards her, and she waved her empty hands at them as she shouted. “Octavia Blake. I’m one of your people!” The guns didn’t lower, but they also didn’t shoot. By the time Octavia drew Helios up at the front gate, someone had already sent for and found Bellamy.

“Octavia, where have you been?” Bellamy ground out, looking deeply infuriated and ashamed. He stood just outside of Arkadia’s still half-closed gates with his hands on his hips.

Octavia tried and failed to fight back her smile at his irritation. “Out,” she responded curtly.

Bellamy threw up his hands to show his distaste for that answer, but turned on his heel and lead his sister and her horse through the gates.

She swung down once she was within the yard, and Bellamy’s arm was closed around her bicep as soon as her feet hit the ground.

“We need to talk, O, now,” he growled into her ear. He was bent close to her ear, trying to keep their confrontation quiet even as he prepared to drag her across the yard.

“But Helios-” she tried, but Bellamy shook his head.

“Your damn horse will be fine,” he responded, so Octavia looped the reins around a fence post and allowed herself to be tugged along.

“Listen to me, Bell,” she started, but Bellamy jerked her arm so hard in response that she stumbled.

“No, O, you listen to me,” he barked, and Octavia barely had time to right herself before he pulled her over the threshold and into the dimly lit depths of the Ark. “I don’t know where the hell you’ve been or what you think you’ve been doing, but Monroe is dead because of you. This is all coming down around your ears, and I’ve been trying my best to protect you from Pike, but you haven’t been making it easy.” Bellamy had quickly lead her to the room that she and Lincoln shared, and he threw the door open before pushing Octavia inside ahead of him.

“Bellamy, I-” She was desperate to explain herself, especially now that Bellamy had released her arm, and they were in a private enough place that she could say her piece.

“I’m not done!” Bellamy barked, and she sat down on her bed with a sigh and an irritated expression. “Didn’t you hear me? Monroe is dead! Pike’s looking for Kane, gonna take him in and interrogate him, and it’s all gonna come back to you, isn’t it? Tell me it isn’t,” he dared her, arms crossed over his chest. He was visibly seething in rage.

“Bellamy, listen to me. Do not leave camp. Do not go out of these walls, because five miles out there-” Octavia tried, but Bellamy was leaning over her and into her face before she could finish.

“Don’t tell me what to do. Only one of us is looking out for both of us here, and that’s me.” He was within inches of her, their faces so close that his breath was ruffling the loose hair around her temples.

Octavia opened her mouth to argue, glaring into his eyes, when the handcuffs audibly snapped around her wrist. She jerked against them violently and looked down to see that he had handcuffed one of her wrists to the bedpost. By the time she looked back up at him, he had stepped out of her reach. She tried to spring to her feet but was instantly jerked back down by the short chain. “Bellamy!” She screeched.

“I have to go,” he answered, suddenly dangerously placid, as he turned towards the door.

“Bellamy, please, please, don’t go out - don’t! Five miles out there-” he put his hand on the door knob, and Octavia quickly changed tactics in her panic. “Bellamy, I’m begging you.”

Bellamy paused with his back to her and the door ajar as he shook his head. “I’ll be back with your breakfast.”

“Bellamy! Bellamy, don’t! Bellamy!” Octavia’s voice was climbing as rapidly in pitch as it was in decibels.

He had already shut the door and closed it, leaving her alone in the dark.

\---

The knock on his door pulled Kane out of sleep. He blinked at his ceiling, confused. There was another knock. He rolled over onto his side with a groan. Another knock. “I’m coming,” he called and clamored out of bed. He fished around in the dark for his pants, stepped into them, and zipped them up before running a hand through his hair. He stumbled across his dark room and opened the door, then squinted under the artificial lights of the hallway.

Miller stood with his hand raised for another knock and his head twisted to look over his shoulder.

“Jesus, Miller, come in,” Kane said, stepping out of the way as he pulled Miller forward and into his room with a hand on his shoulder. Kane quickly closed and locked the door and then leaned against it. With a low groan, he turned to face Miller who stood in the middle of his room looking grave.

“They know,” Miller said, voice quiet and face pale in the scant light of the full moon flooding in from the window.

“Who knows?” Kane asked, voice suddenly strained. Instant concern had replaced the sleepiness on his face at Miller’s words.

“Who do you think?” Miller sighed, running the flat of his palm over the stubble on his chin. “Bellamy came to me a few hours ago to help track you down, bring you in. He’s been looking for you, waiting for the right time. Said he doesn’t want to make a scene.”

“Jesus,” Kane repeated and bowed his head to think.

“You need to go,” Miller said quickly, spurred on by Kane’s apparent inaction. “Pack a bag, be out of here by dawn. And go fast - there’s something going on at the treeline. All the guards are talking about it, arguing about whether or not to go to Pike. Harper and I will cover for you as long as we can. Go try and meet up with Octavia, find somewhere to bed down for the night. I’ll come find you when it’s all clear.” He was back at Kane’s side now, his hand on the handle as he prepared to leave.

“If it’s ever all clear,” Kane said quietly. His head was still lowered, and his eyes were tightly shut.

Miller had no response for that. He just shook his head and grimaced. “Either way, you need to go.”

\---

The forest had developed the blue-grey quality that it always did just before the sun started to peek over the horizon. Clarke was bent low over Kanati’s neck, with Murphy and Selu just a stride behind her. The horses were panting and foaming with sweat. Clarke’s shawl was still pulled tight around her face but only because of her constant adjustments to. Murphy shifted uncomfortably from the unaccustomed hours of long riding atop a horse.

“We’re almost there,” Clarke said, more to herself than to him. Her eyes flickered back and forth from the slivers of silver sky she could see through the canopy to the familiar path ahead of her. “So close,” she murmured.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by Grounders, at rest and at ease, in various stages of preparing a camp and waking up. Clarke tensed in her saddle, and Murphy instantly scrambled for his gun, but the Grounders merely stared.

Clarke tipped her head back to get yet another look at the sky; it was not quite dawn yet but too close for comfort. It took them several tense minutes to make their way through camp, but they broke through the tree line soon enough.

Murphy let out an audible groan of relief as they were suddenly out in the open with Arkadia in sight.

When they were close enough to the Ark that Clarke’s body began to relax, she pulled Kanati up to a slow walk, and Murphy did the same at her side.

“Hands up,” she told him quietly. “Palms open.”

“Clarke,” Murphy said testily, and when Clarke looked over his hands were already high above his head. “I spent almost a decade in the skybox. I know how to deal with law enforcement.”

Clarke allowed a smile at that. The relief of making it inside the blockade in time was enough to encourage her to tease him. “And how does that usually work out for you?”

Murphy pursed his lips. “Fair enough,” he responded.

The horses continued their slow path under the gentle nudges of Murphy and Clarke’s knees. Their gloved hands were high above their heads all the while.

“Do they see us?” Murphy asked Clarke quietly, and at almost that moment, they were suddenly able to pick out the shine of pointed guns against the black of the guards’ uniforms. “Your hair,” Murphy said.

Clarke hesitated for a moment, confused, before dropping the shawl to her shoulders to let the guards see the hair that none of the Grounders seemed to share.

As the sun finally rose into the sky, Clarke and Murphy stopped their horses at the gates of the Ark, and Clarke let her head tip back to frown up at the sky. She was home.


	2. Shifting Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my life got very crazy for a while there, but things have slowed down now, so hopefully i can get back to regular posting!

_I woke up. I was stuck in a dream._  
_You were there. You were tearing up everything._  
_We all know how to fake it, baby._  
_We all know what we’ve done._  
_We must be killers, children of the wild ones._  
_Killers, where’ve we got left to run?_  
“We Must Be Killers” by Mikky Ekko

Every gun at the gate was trained on either Murphy or Clarke.  
  
Murphy, who was used to this sort of treatment by then, stared them down unflinchingly. The only sign of his unease was the restlessness of his eyes which flickered quickly from guard to guard despite the stillness of his body held taut atop his horse.  
  
Clarke licked her lips, narrowed her eyes, and settled herself higher in her saddle before speaking. “My name is Clarke Griffin,” she called out, voice hard and clear in the quiet of the dawn. The end of the sentence was divisive. She had no more to say.  
  
There was movement behind the gates, but no one responded to her.  
  
“They don’t recognize us,” Murphy told her out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
“Why would they?” Clarke responded as she jerked her head towards him, and then, louder. “I need to speak to my mother Abby. We’re from the Ark. This is John Murphy.”  
  
“Jesus,” a voice called from inside the gate beyond Clarke and Murphy’s line of sight. “That’s Clarke and Murphy! What are you idi- let her in! I know them!” The gates started to grind open, and Harper slid through the gap as soon as she could fit. “Clarke!” She shouted, face completely alight with glee as she jogged towards them. “It’s so great to see you!”  
  
“Hey, McIntyre,” Murphy responded sourly as Clarke smiled at Harper.  
  
“It’s good to see you, too, Harper,” Clarke said fondly. “Thanks for vouching for us.”  
  
“I’d vouch for you any time!” Harper said, holding her hand out to Kanati’s nose. He shied away under her touch as Clarke dismounted.  
  
“No, I’ve had a great time while I was away,” Murphy continued. He slid down off of Selu in much the same awkward way that he had mounted. “You shouldn’t have worried so much about me.”  
  
“Is my mother asleep?” Clarke asked Harper as she took Selu’s reins from Murphy and began to lead both of the horses through the gates of the Ark.  
  
“Probably,” Harper answered with a shrug. “The only reason I’m up is because Bryan and Miller were going at it. Couldn’t sleep.”  
  
Murphy arched an eyebrow, amused, while Clarke ducked her head in embarrassment at what had quickly become unfamiliar intimacy.

“Sorry,” Harper offered without appearing apologetic in the slightest. “Misery loves company, right?”

By now they had entered the gates and crossed the yard. Murphy was meeting all the curious stares head on, but Clarke was avoiding as much eye contact as she could. She tied Kanati and Selu to a railing in the yard and headed into the Ark with Harper and Murphy close in tow.

“Where have you been?” Harper asked Murphy, falling back in step with him as Clarke quickly followed the worn path to Abby’s room.  
  
Murphy shrugged, rubbing at his nose. “Oh, you know. Here, there, getting tortured by Grounders. A day in my life. I’m touched you noticed I was gone, but I’m especially pleased you’ve finally noticed I’m back.”  
  
Harper grinned and bumped him with her shoulder which caused Murphy to startle back into looking at her. “Well, you’re one of us. Plus, you look like shit, so I figured you’d have an interesting story to tell.”  
  
“Is that all I am to you?” Murphy asked, mock-offended and scrambling to regain face after being taken off guard by Harper’s concern. “A pretty piece of ass and a-”  
  
“Wait here,” Clarke cut him off. She opened a door and ducked in as Harper and Murphy stopped short. Harper was already starting on a retort to Murphy as Clarke closed the door behind her. “Mom?” She called softly, pausing just inside the threshold to let her eyes adjust to the greyness of the room.  
  
Abby scrambled out of bed and was on her feet in an instant at the sound of her daughter’s voice. “Clarke?” She called, rubbing sleep from her eyes even as she headed blindly towards Clarke.  
  
“Yeah, Mom, it’s me,” Clarke said with a smile as wide as her face would allow.  
  
Abby had no words. She wrapped her arms around Clarke and pulled her in close, pressing the flat of one of her palms to the back of her head and burying her face in her neck.  
  
Clarke hesitated for only a moment before she put her arms around her mother’s waist and pushed her lips against Abby’s shoulder.  
  
They stood like that, silent, for a long while, before Abby pulled away to brusquely grab Clarke’s shoulders and quickly check her daughter over in the low light. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”  
  
“I’m fine, Mom,” Clarke said quietly and started to say more before closing her mouth and shaking her head at the last moment.  
  
“What?” Abby said, as perceptive as ever. “What is it?”  
  
Clarke reached up to gently brush some of Abby’s loose hairs from her face and heaved a weighty sigh. “We have a lot to talk about.”  
  
“Of course we do,” Abby replied, dismissive, and returned to her steady inspection of all of Clarke’s visible skin.  
  
“No, Mom,” Clarke insisted. Her face and voice were grim enough to finally fully gain her mother’s attention. “We need to talk about the Chancellor.” Clarke’s words seemed to kick-start something in Abby, who physically jolted in Clarke’s arms and pulled away.  
  
“We need to find somewhere to hide you. You can’t stay here.” Abby was suddenly frantic in a much different way than she had been before.  
  
“I know, Mom, but we need to talk. We-”  
  
“Hey, hey, the lady’s sleeping in there!” Murphy’s voice rang out from the hallway. He was purposefully speaking loudly enough to be heard through the door.  
  
Abby groaned and moved to stand between Clarke and the door. “Oh no,” she whispered as Clarke cast a quick glance around the room for somewhere to hide.  
  
There was a rattle at the door and then, from Harper, “Why do you think we’re waiting out here? She’s not up yet!”  
  
A quiet thud of weight being pushed against the wall resounded through the room, and then the door was flung open. Pike stood in the threshold of Abby’s bedroom, flanked closely by Hannah in the hall. Murphy stood tight to Harper’s side and both were looking to Clarke for direction. Clarke, for her part, ceased her silent search for a place to hide and stood tall behind her mother, chin up and eyes on Pike. Abby’s pose was so similar to Clarke’s that their relation was striking.  
  
“Chancellor,” Abby said, her voice restrained. “Will it be your continuing practice to burst into ladies’ rooms in the early hours of the morning, or is this a special occasion?”  
  
Pike genuinely chuckled. “Cute, Abby. Clearly, though, this is a cause for celebration!” He took a long step inside the room, hands up and open in a practiced effect of joviality. “Hannah stopped by to let me know that she’d seen your daughter come through the gates, so I had to drop in to welcome her home myself.” He took another large step towards the mother and daughter.  
  
Abby reached sightlessly behind her for Clarke, who caught Abby’s hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Well, thank you,” Abby said. Her voice was thin with forced sincerity. “But we’d like some time to say hello again before accepting visitors.”  
  
Outside, Harper had turned her frustration to glaring at Hannah. Murphy’s eyes were still steadily on Clarke, waiting for his cue.  
  
Pike sighed at that, looking truly distraught. “Unfortunately, Abby, this isn’t a social call.” He let his words hang in the air as silence reigned.  
  
Murphy cleared his throat. “Listen, Pike-”  
  
“Murphy!” Clarke snapped, her head whipping towards him.  
  
Murphy threw up his hands at her over Pike’s shoulder, but he shut his mouth.  
  
“You know what I’m here to do,” Pike said, voice grave, wasting no attention on Murphy, and he took another step closer as he spoke.  
  
Clarke and Abby stepped back in unison, and Abby jerked her hands towards Pike, palms up and pleading, in an unintentional mimicry of his earlier gesture. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered, but Pike was already shaking his head.  
  
“I wish I didn’t,” he took another step forward, “but I really do.”  
  
When Hannah moved forward to block any hope of exit through the door, Clarke stepped around from behind Abby to make eye contact with Murphy and started talking as quickly as she could in a low rush. “Murphy, you need to-”  
  
“That’s enough,” Pike cut her off, grabbing her by the arm and turning her around to begin to bind her wrists.  
  
Suddenly, everyone was moving and talking at once.  
  
“Murphy, you have to-” Clarke was actively pulling away from Pike’s hands.  
  
“I know, I will. Now shut up.” Murphy told her firmly.  
  
“Pike, what do you - on what grounds are you-” Abby stepped towards Pike, but Hannah had crossed the room in an instant and quickly laid her hand on Abby’s shoulder. Abby whirled in place and started towards Hannah, but just as quickly Harper was behind her and looped an arm around Abby’s waist, tugging her back.  
  
“It’s okay, Mrs. Griffin,” Harper said, voice reassuring as she leaned towards Abby’s ear. “We’ll figure this out.”  
  
“Harper’s right,” Murphy called from the doorway, and Clarke and Abby both marginally relaxed in the arms of those restraining them. “Besides,” he added, catching Abby’s attention from across the room as Harper released her hold, “We’re going to need a minute alone to talk.”  
  
Pike had finished binding Clarke’s wrists with considerable ease once she had relaxed under his hands, but once he started tugging her towards the door, her panic arose again anew.  
  
Abby, who had barely ceased her furious stare-down of Hannah, turned back towards Clarke at the sound of her struggle and jerked into action towards her daughter at the fear on her face.  
  
“It’s fine, Mom, it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be fine.” Clarke stumbled backwards over the threshold as Pike pulled her past it, and Murphy, Abby, and Harper all moved to catch her instinctively before she righted herself.  
  
“Clarke! No! I can’t - I can’t lose you again!” Abby lunged towards Clarke, and although Harper scrambled to reel her back in, Hannah had already moved threateningly after her.  
  
“Back off,” Murphy hissed, stepping towards Hannah and angling himself in front of Harper and Abby.  
  
“Mom, Mom, it’s fine, it’s gonna be alright,” Clarke called, still half-heartedly fighting against Pike, just enough to stay within her mother’s view but not enough to enrage him.  
  
“Clarke!” Abby jerked towards her daughter with enough intensity to slip from Harper’s grip and was halfway across the room to her before Murphy caught her around the hips and drug her a few steps back to Harper.  
  
“That’s enough,” Pike finally ground out as he pulled Clarke out of sight.  
  
Hannah smiled with insincere kindness at Abby, who was still tugging feebly against Murphy’s arms, before following Clarke and Pike out the door.  
  
Abby shook herself free of Murphy’s arms only once the sound of her daughter had faded away. “We need to find Kane.”  
  
\---

Bellamy ducked out of the Ark and stood just outside the make-shift doorway, leaning against the glimmering metal of the broken-down space station behind him. He scanned the crowd once and then again, looking for someone he clearly couldn’t find. Frustrated, he closed his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face. He left it there, over his eyes, mouth screwed up, and sucked air in through his nose.  
  
“Bellamy!”  
  
His head jerked up to find Miller crossing the yard towards him. “Good news, I hope?” Bellamy asked, although his voice was completely devoid of any optimism.  
  
“Nah,” Miller said with a shrug, entirely unperturbed. “No news on Kane.”  
  
“He’s made himself real scarce,” Bellamy admitted as Miller turned to lean against the Ark beside him.  
  
“I do have other news though,” Miller quickly added, shifting uncomfortably in his guard’s jacket. “Guess who’s back.”  
  
Bellamy jolted and turned towards Miller, immediately scanning his face frantically for any give away of his emotions. His eyes were narrow and severe, hearkening back to the days just after the landing of the dropship when Bellamy ruled them all with an iron fist.  
  
“Woah,” Miller said, holding up his open hands, “fine, don’t guess. Murphy and Griffin came riding in on - get this - they came riding in on fucking horseback this morning.”  
  
Bellamy a forced an exceptionally hoarse laugh and near violently shook his head. “You’re kidding.”  
  
Miller shrugged. “Hand to God,” he responded, even as he kept as steady of a watch on Bellamy’s reaction as Bellamy had just been keeping on him.  
  
“Funny timing, though,” Bellamy remarked quietly as he relaxed back against the steel behind him. “O showed up late last night, too.”  
  
Miller released the tightness in his muscles at the normalization of Bellamy’s reaction and turned back to face the bustle of the grounds of Arkadia. “I’m telling you, man. Something’s going on out there. Something big.”

\---

The sun was bright, approaching the middle of the sky and shining heartily for one of the first true days of spring when Kane crossed the grounds just outside of Arkadia on Selu’s back. The horse was obviously and incredibly unamused, prancing sideways underneath Kane’s weight with every step and tossing her head against the reins. Kane was keeping up a soft, quiet murmur for her benefit that was comprised entirely of nonsense words that meant nothing to Kane and even less to Selu. Kane was riding bareback, and the overstuffed black bag slung over his shoulder was smacking against his hip and Selu’s flank with every hard-fought step the horse took.  
  
Kane was within a mile of the tree line and wasn’t slowing.

\---

“I dunno, Monty,” Miller said as he shook his head. “Bellamy’s acting weird. Really weird.”  
  
Monty scoffed and rolled his eyes for good measure. “Weirder than when he decided to go along with Pike?”  
  
Miller frowned at that. “Hell, as far as everyone but us knows, you’re going along with Pike too.”  
  
They stood in the hangar, leaning together against one of the inner-walls as they watched the busy movement of daily life on the ground. Miller was holding his machine gun loosely against his chest, but Monty’s pistol was settled comfortably into the strap on his hip. The morning sun filtered in through the open hangar door, leaving Monty and Miller with a full view of the yard as well as of Raven on her back working on the rover just out of earshot in front of them.  
  
Eventually, Monty heaved a sigh. “Necessary evil,” he said quietly, even while he nodded at Shawn Gillmer as he passed through the room.  
  
“No, man,” Miller persisted after another pause. “I’m telling you. Bellamy’s acting even weirder today than he was just a few days ago. I dunno, maybe it has something to do with his sister and Clarke being back.”  
  
Monty startled at that and turned to face Miller. “Octavia’s back?”  
  
“Yeah,” Miller confirmed and shifted the gun further back up his chest. “He told me a couple hours ago. Said she came in sometime last night.”  
  
Monty frowned so steadily at the side of Miller’s face that he finally caught on and turned to look at him. “Miller,” Monty said quietly, sudden intensity written on his features. “Have you seen her?”  
  
“Nah,” Miller started, “and honestly, I’m a little mad that she hasn’t dropped by to say-” and then the realization visibly flashed across his face. “Oh, shit.”  
  
Both boys turned on their heels and took off at a sprint. They scrambled around corners in the maze-like corridors of the Ark, both moving at a dead run. At one corner they hesitated, but Monty soon remembered the direction and jerked Miller by the elbow after him as he took back off.  
  
They weren’t able to hear Octavia’s hoarse, periodic shouting until they had already pulled the door ajar.  
  
“Finally!” Octavia barked, her voice even throatier than usual. “I’ve been sitting here screaming all night.” She was curled up on her bed, legs akimbo, wrist bloodied, and hair wild. The darkness under her bloodshot eyes showed her exhaustion, but she shook her handcuffed arm at them with all the normal anxious energy that usually accompanied her every move.  
  
“Bellamy?” Monty asked quietly, and Octavia just sighed.  
  
Miller fished a key from one of the inner pockets of his jacket and knelt before her. “Why did he do this?” He made quick work of the lock, and she rubbed at her wrist, rolling it around to pop the joints, as he tucked the handcuffs into his jacket.  
  
“There’s a blockade,” Octavia immediately responded. “The Commander’s got Grounders encircling us.”  
  
“Grounders?” Monty repeated, completely thrown. “Why?”  
  
“Because of my stupid brother,” Octavia growled. She was on her feet now, cracking her neck. “It’s _Heda_ ’s response to his massacre.”  
  
“Jesus,” Miller said quietly, his head hung low. “That must be why Clarke and Murphy are back, then. They can’t stay outside the blockade.”  
  
“Clarke’s back?” Octavia asked, visibly shocked. Then, after a long beat, “Wait, Murphy? John Murphy? He’s back?”  
  
Monty chuckled genuinely. “Yeah, I had the same reaction.”  
  
“I thought that the asshole was dead,” Octavia murmured to herself but quickly switched the subject. “Clarke can’t be back, though. She stayed with the Commander.”  
  
Miller shrugged, unconcerned. “I don’t know what to tell you. Bellamy says she’s here, and I have guard duty for someone in solitary tonight.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter if she’s here or not,” Octavia said suddenly, her laser focus back on the pressing subject at hand. “Bellamy won’t listen to me, but you two need to spread the word, and I need to speak to Kane. There’s a kill order on any _Skaikru_ who passes the line until Pike’s in _Heda_ ’s hands.”  
  
Miller leapt into action, sweeping up Octavia’s jacket and sword where they had been discarded on her bed over the course of the night. “You need to go! Now! Kane’s outside the gates, and he’s heading towards the forest.”  
  
Octavia was instantly all movement, catching the supplies Miller tossed at her and heading for the door of her room with all the speed that Miller and Monty had ran to her moments ago.

\---

“I need to speak to the Chancellor!” Clarke tried, but her voice was scratchy with overuse and severely lacking in authority. “I have important - I have life or death information that he needs to hear!”  
  
The door in front of her was still firmly closed.  
  
Clarke stood against it, her forehead pressed against the metal and eyes shut. Her muscles were limp, arms hanging, and she pulled back only to hopelessly bang her head forward against the door once more. “Please.” She waited a beat, and, of course, nothing happened. Irritated, she turned and paced around her cell, making a quick circuit of the empty room that was once someone’s living quarters. For now, it held nothing more than a bare cot and a wash basin. She circled back to the door and curled a fist to pound against it when suddenly it creaked. Clarke instantly stepped back, hands up and palms forward, the picture of perfect contrition and innocence.  
  
The door opened all the way and Bellamy stepped through, a tray with cutlery and an opaque blue plastic cup and bowl balanced precariously. He nodded to someone out of Clarke’s line of sight who closed the door with a heavy click.  
  
“Oh, Bellamy, thank God,” Clarke said, instantly relaxing and stepping towards him, but Bellamy stiffened and Clarke froze.  
  
“Clarke,” he greeted her with a firm nod. He stood perfectly still just inside the room with the tray gripped tightly in his hands.  
  
“I - Bellamy,” she repeated, brow furrowed, momentarily at a loss for words and falling back to his name thoughtlessly. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is everyone okay? Octavia made it back, right?”  
  
Bellamy just set his jaw and stepped past her. He set the tray gently down on her bed and moved to step back around her, but she sidestepped in front of him to cut him off.  
  
“Bellamy, talk to me,” Clarke demanded, hands on her hips.  
  
“Where’s Kane?” Bellamy growled as he suddenly crossed his arms across his chest.  
  
“Kane?” She asked, her face clearly showing her genuine confusion. “I have no idea where Kane is. Last that I knew, he was here. Bellamy, as soon as I got here, Pike  
came and-”  
  
“You don’t know where Kane is,” Bellamy repeated, voice monotonous and face blank. The veins on his crossed forearms stood out clearly with the strength of his tensed muscles.  
  
“No, Bellamy!” Clarke agreed, vehement, knuckles white on her hips. “I really don’t. I don’t even know why you’re asking about him. But it doesn’t matter, you have to listen to me. The Commander, she-”  
  
Bellamy threw down his arms and moved to step around Clarke again. “I’m tired of hearing about the Commander,” he snapped. “The only thing I need to know about the Commander is that she is doing everything in her power to set us up for failure.”  
  
Clarke was shaking her head before he had even finished his sentence which stopped Bellamy in his tracks. “This isn’t about her. There’s a bl-”  
  
“You’ll defend her until you die, won’t you?” Bellamy snarled, lip curled back with his fury. “You’re so...so blindly enthralled with her that you can’t even see-”  
  
Clarke let out a bitter laugh. “I know someone else who’s too blind to see!”  
  
Bellamy snapped his mouth shut and continued past her.  
  
Clarke followed him close behind. “I’m sorry, Bellamy, I didn’t mean it like - but you’ll die if you-”  
  
“Are you threatening me?” Bellamy growled, voice dangerously low as he whirled back around to look her in the eye.  
  
Tears instantly sprung to Clarke’s eyes at that, and she blinked several times in rapid succession to hold them back.  
  
Bellamy softened a bit, muscles beginning to relax. “Sorry,” he said, whisper quiet and looking somewhere over her shoulder to avoid her meeting eyes.  
  
Clarke succeeded in battling away the wetness and set her jaw. “I would never threaten you,” she said just as quietly as he had been speaking, but she spoke quickly in contrast to his measured anger. “I’m saying this for your safety. I’m saying this for everyone’s safety. There’s a blockade at five miles out in every direction. Anyone from the Ark who crosses the line will die.”  
  
Bellamy’s eyes widened, and he took a hurried step back from her. They stood for a moment in silence as Bellamy worried his lower lip between his teeth, thinking hard. Finally, his eyes sought out Clarke again, and he stared directly into her eyes as he spoke. “Until when?”  
  
Clarke’s mouth had been half open as she searched for the words to make it right, but at his question she quickly snapped her jaw shut and pressed her lips tightly together. She shook her head twice in quick succession and moved to turn away, but Bellamy reached out and caught her by her upper arm to pull her back towards him.  
  
“Clarke?” He questioned, all the hardness back in his voice.  
  
“I can’t,” Clarke responded as she looked up at him pleadingly, eyes scanning his expression for any hint of the Bellamy she used to know. She hesitated for a moment and then made her decision. “I can’t tell you.”  
  
“Why not?” Bellamy asked, genuine confusion flickering across his face.  
  
Clarke shook her head again. “Because you’re not on my side right now,” she mumbled, jerking her arm from his grip and retreating back to the cot. She dropped her gaze and sat, her elbows braced against her knees and her head in her hands as Bellamy stared, taken aback. There was a long moment as Clarke avoided his eyes before Bellamy finally turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.  
  
He stood for a moment, starting at the flat metal door before Pike startled him as he cleared his throat to Bellamy’s left.  
  
“Anything?” Pike asked quietly.  
  
Bellamy licked his lips and nodded, turning to look at Pike. “We should go speak in your office.”  
  
Pike silently nodded his acceptance and turned to head towards the office, but Bellamy stopped him with a hand on his shoulder before Pike had taken more than a step.  
  
“Chancellor?” Bellamy asked quietly, looking back towards the closed door of Clarke’s cell, flanked on either side by an armed guard. “Thank you for not interrogating her.”  
  
Pike frowned, taken aback. “Oh, I’m sorry, Bellamy, but I thought you already knew. We’re going to interrogate her. I’m just letting her stew for a bit first.”

\---

Raven, Jaha, and Alie were huddled together in the depths of the Ark. Raven was sitting, legs swinging, on a table, and Jaha leaned against one of the panels of flickering lights. Alie stood just to his left, hands clasped and head cocked as she thought. The sound of the Ark was alive here, even after it had faded in most of the rest of the Ark, because what little power Raven had routed back through the Ark was sourced from this room.  
  
“So, say that Polaris really did lead to Polis,” Raven speculated. She leaned back, propping her torso up with her hands stretched out behind her. “Where does that leave us?”  
  
“It has to mean something,” Jaha insisted as he crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
“Thelonius is right,” Alie agreed after a moment of wide-eyed processing. “It is too unlikely that this is merely coincidence.”  
  
“But Polaris was never part of the Ark,” Jaha mused, eyes closed as he thought. “Becca was on the Ark.”  
  
“If Alie two was anywhere on the Ark, I would have fou-” Raven started, a vague hint of irritation surfacing through the calming effects of the City of Light.  
  
“I know only,” Alie interrupted, and Raven closed her mouth immediately, “that Becca was in space. It’s possible that she was never on the Ark after all. It’s entirely possible that she was on Polaris instead.”  
  
“Then what’s the connection between the 13th station and the Grounders? Even if Becca was on the 13th station, it was decimated.” Calm again, Raven’s face was completely blank, even as she reasoned through the possibilities.  
  
The only sound was the hum of the Ark for a moment as they all considered the idea until Alie spoke. “Unless Polaris came down to Earth.”  
  
“It didn’t,” Jaha insisted, not even opening his eyes to confront her.  
  
“There was no record of Polaris in the Ark at all, other than the stories,” Raven pointed out, coming around to Alie’s theory. “Who’s to say the stories got it all right? It’s been passed down orally for a hundred years; there could be details missing.”  
  
“Earth would have been nearly impossible to survive,” Alie said. She blinked twice and then said, “Becca’s survival rate would have been near 0.0001%, without factoring in the low possibility of Polaris achieving a survivable landing.”  
  
“But it’s possible,” Jaha said quietly. “It’s possible that Becca was on Polaris, and that she piloted it back to Earth and survived. It’s possible that she brought Alie two down with her. And if she did…”  
  
“Alie two is with the Grounders,” Raven supplied instantly.  
  
“I believe,” Alie said, after another moment of quiet thought, “that we should begin with their leader.”

\---

“We’re gonna get through this, Mrs. Griffin,” Harper said with her arm looped around Abby’s shoulders. Abby was sitting on one of the stretchers in the medical bay, her head cradled in her hands as she struggled to fight off the tears. "You helped me after Monroe, and now I'm gonna help you."  
  
“You don’t get to just come back in here and act like everything is okay!” Miller shouted from where he was standing near the door, with Monty beside him looking ready to pull Miller back at any moment.  
  
“I get to do whatever the hell I want!” Murphy sneered and took one long step closer to Miller before Monty waved him back. Murphy stepped back immediately but the look of hatred was still plainly on his face.  
  
“Oh, that old line again? Really?” Miller started, waving his arms violently to make up for his lack of opportunity to lunge across the room at Murphy. “Bellamy won’t protect you anymore, Murphy. Bellamy doesn’t give two shits about yo-”  
  
“Am I interrupting something?” Jasper barked from where he was standing in the threshold of the med bay, and every other head in the room snapped towards him.  
  
The first movement was of Monty stepping away from where he had looped his arm around Miller to hold him back. “Jasper,” Monty said, starting across the room towards him, “what are you doing here?”  
  
“I have a check-up,” Jasper explained through his teeth as he gestured to the bandage on his neck, but he didn’t look at Monty as he spoke.  
  
Across the room, Abby rallied, fiercely wiping the tracks of her tears from her eyes. “Of course, Jasper, come on over, let me-”  
  
“What’s his deal?” Murphy interrupted, looking to Harper for an answer. “How’d he get that-”  
  
“That’s right!” Miller cut him off as he lunged threateningly forward, and Monty all but sprinted across the room to jerk him backwards again. “You don’t know! You don’t know what happened to Jasper! You don’t know what’s happened to any of us!” Miller shouted as he loosely tugged against Monty’s arms around his stomach. “Because you weren’t here! You left us!”  
  
“You didn’t want me here!” Murphy returned, incensed now. He was pacing rapidly back and forth to avoid taking advantage of the fact that no one was holding him back. “None of you wanted me here!”  
  
“It’s actually nice to see you, Murphy,” Jasper called from the examination table where he sat with his hands placidly in his lap and his face pointedly bemused.  
  
Abby shushed him as she peeled back the bandage on his neck, but Jasper was undeterred.  
  
“Have you been back long? Haven’t seen you around in months.” Jasper winced as Abby, who had given up quieting him, began to clean his healing wound.  
  
“It is not nice to see him!” Miller hissed, and although Monty had again relaxed his grip on him, he was forced back to the mantle as Miller jerked forward.  
  
“Come on, guys,” Monty started, but he was quickly cut off by Jasper.  
  
“I dunno about that,” Jasper insisted, but the suddenly bitter grin on his face betrayed the edge of bile to his words. “I never minded him. He had my back in the very beginning with Wells. He didn’t actually kill me after the whole spear thing which is apparently the height of kindness for the 100.”  
  
Miller and Murphy, who had been glaring at each other, both turned to stare at Jasper in shock. Murphy barked, “You like me?” at the same time as Miller cried, “You can’t be serious!”  
  
Jasper shrugged, and Monty, exasperated, began to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
Murphy immediately took advantage of the momentary ceasefire and crossed the room to stand next to Abby as she silently prepared Jasper’s new bandage. “Listen, if you don’t want to trust me - well, normally, I’d say that’s fine, but this time I’m telling you. If you,” he paused, and turned to look at the others in the room who were begrudgingly listening, “if any of you want a shot at surviving this, if you want to do what Clarke thinks that we should do, then you need to listen to me.”  
  
“How do we know this is what Clarke wants?” Monty spoke up, picking his head up from his hands.  
  
“Clarke was trying to talk to Murphy as Pike was taking her away, but he told her to shut up.” Harper pointed out from her place on the cot where she had been watching the proceedings with an expression somewhere between amusement and disgust.  
  
“Yeah,” Murphy agreed, rounding on Harper with irritation, “because she was about to implicate me. She realized that. She shut up, didn’t she? If Clarke was trying to talk to me before she was taken away, don’t you want to listen to me?”  
  
Abby finished bandaging Jasper’s neck and turned to Murphy with a sigh. “Fine,” she said. “I’m willing to hear you out.”  
  
“So generous,” Murphy grumbled, but when Miller grunted and took another aggressive step forward, Murphy held up his hands apologetically. “Sorry. I’m trying, believe it or not.”  
  
Harper pointedly cleared her throat to urge him on.  
  
Murphy heaved a sigh. “Well, the first thing you need to know is that we’re at war. The second thing is that we can trust the Commander, and the third is that the Grounders want Pike’s head on, well-”  
  
“Don’t say it,” Harper interrupted with a groan.  
  
Murphy just smirked. “I’m sure you all get the point.”

\---

The mess hall was filled with people. Residents of Arkadia crowded around the bar where food was being served as well as around the tables scattered throughout the spacious room. Monty and Bellamy were in a corner with their backs to the wall watching the chaos as they quietly spooned up their stew. For a time, they were both comfortable with the silence, but eventually Monty pulled his guard’s jacket tighter around his neck and sighed.  
  
“I keep expecting to see Monroe,” he said quietly, face drawn.  
  
Bellamy pressed his lips together into a thin line and dropped his head.  
  
“Stew was her favorite,” Monty murmured with a spoonful paused part way to his mouth. “She said she could feel the warmth in her bones.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Bellamy started without meeting Monty’s eyes, but he was saved from his near miss with emotional vulnerability by Raven dragging out the remaining chair at the table and heavily lowering herself into it.  
  
“Why’s everyone looking so sad?” she asked faintly, her face plastered in a vague smile as she arranged her own tray of food.  
  
“We were just talking about her,” Bellamy said gruffly, his voice laced with guilt as he emphasized the last word.  
  
“Her?” Raven asked absently. She scooted her chair closer towards the table and her meal.  
  
“Monroe,” Bellamy quietly supplied.  
  
Raven shrugged questioningly and began to eat.  
  
Monty stiffened. “Raven, you didn’t know?” He tried to catch her eye, but she was tranquilly slurping her stew now. “The last time we…went out, she didn’t make it.”  
  
Raven paused with a distant frown. She swallowed her mouthful and then quirked an eyebrow. “Who?”  
  
Bellamy physically recoiled in his seat. “Monroe, Raven!”  
  
Raven blinked and took a sip of her water.  
  
Monty was equally aghast but continued to valiantly try to remind her. “She came down with the rest of us. She was Harper’s girlfriend. She-”  
  
Raven’s brow furrowed, and her mouth contorted into something resembling a grimace. “Oh, uh, right. Monroe. She died? That’s sad.”  
  
Monty, who had not relaxed since he’d first broken the news, turned slowly towards Bellamy.  
  
Bellamy was still staring, mouth agape, at Raven.  
  
“Sorry to run on you, but we have patrol duty,” Monty told her suddenly, since Bellamy’s face was quickly twisting to an expression between rage and grief but with a heavy lean towards the former. Monty quickly gathered up his tray, and Bellamy followed suit.  
  
Raven did not acknowledge them as they left.  
  
“Is she okay?” Monty asked Bellamy under his breath as soon as they were far enough away from Raven in the throng of people.  
  
“Did she seem okay to you?” Bellamy asked, voice hoarse and horror on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Odon: over, done, finished.  
> Chof: thank you, thanks.


	3. Natrona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i never claimed i'm reliable. this entire thing IS plotted out...it's just not written yet. it will all happen, eventually, don't worry. and best of all, in this chapter we finally get to see some more lexa!

_Walking in that room when you had tubes in your arms,_  
_Those singing morphine alarms out of tune_  
_Kept you sleeping and even, and I didn't believe them,_  
 _When they called you a hurricane thunderclap._  
_When I was checking vitals I suggested a smile._  
_You didn't talk for a while. You were freezing._  
_You said you hated my tone. It made you feel so alone,_  
_And so you told me I ought to be leaving._  
"Kettering" by The Antlers

* * *

 

The sound of Octavia’s frantic, shallow breathing was nearly as loud as that of Helios’ hooves rapidly beating against the dirt. Octavia’s hair was hanging loosely down her back, but it was mussed up and knotted at the nape of her neck from spending the night before dozing against her bedroom wall. Her eyes were red-rimmed and narrow, squinting against the light of the sun at the midpoint in the sky. In the far distance, she could see what she assumed must be Kane, another figure on a horse within the invisible line of the blockade. He was moving at a much slower pace, but, due to his distance from her, one that was still too fast for Octavia to outstrip. She drew her breath to scream but cut herself short; there was no point. She was still too far away for Kane to hear her. She silently urged Helios faster, slapping her heels against him as she leaned further forward over his neck. She was not going to get to Kane in time. Her brows knit, and her mouth twisted downward in a grimace. He was almost at the tree line. Again, Octavia opened her mouth to scream. She knew she was still too far away, but there was no more time. She had to try something-

Octavia nearly cried with relief as the figure that she could only now barely begin to visually identify as Kane pulled his horse up short. She didn’t slow Helios, unable to see why he had stopped and fear painted on her face that he may resume his forward motion before she could catch up, but Octavia released the breath she had been holding when she made out Indra’s figure stepping out from the trees towards Kane.

* * *

“Clarke.”

She jerked up out of sleep as though waking from a nightmare. She panted for a moment, eyes wild as she got her bearings, before she turned to find Bellamy standing quietly just inside her cell door. “Bellamy?” she replied, more a question than an answer, her voice soft and hopeful.

“We need to talk.” He hadn’t moved from his position. His hands were folded near his hips and his expression was severe.

“Let’s talk,” Clarke agreed, eager to placate him and quickly adjusting her tone to match the severity with which Bellamy spoke.

He crossed the room, finally, to stand in front of her, looking for all the world like he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her. “The Commander.” Bellamy growled as though Lexa’s title alone was a complete sentence. He let the silence weigh heavily in the room. “What is she planning?”

Clarke heaved a sigh and dropped her head. She shifted along her little cot, allowing her legs to dangle over the side while her hands sought solace in their firm grip on either side of her hips. “I already told you. She’s not planning anything other than to wait us out. She’s already set up a blockade five miles beyond our walls, just past the trees."

“And then what?” Bellamy was unimpressed. He began to pace across the room, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

“And then nothing!” Clarke responded, head jerking up and voice irritated. She had already lost her patience with Bellamy’s distrust. “That’s it! She’s not going to do anything else.”

“Except maintain the blockade,” Bellamy retorted with a sneer, throwing an arm out towards Clarke.

“Yes,” Clarke agreed grimly.

“Until?” Bellamy asked, ceasing his pacing to turn to her, but she was already shaking her head.

“I can’t, Bellamy, I told you I can’t.” Clarke expression was drawn, eyes sparkling with wetness from her genuine distress at keeping this secret.

“Clarke,” Bellamy hissed, and he dropped to his knees a few feet from her.

Clarke startled back instinctively at first but then quickly leaned towards him, hopeful.

Bellamy nearly shook as he muttered the truth to her. “Please. I’m trying - Pike’s gonna interrogate you soon. I can’t stop that. I’m trying to do what’s right, Clarke. Where have you been? Where did you go? Why did you g-” He cut himself off and shook his head hard, pulling the hands that he had been holding out to her tightly back into his body. “What will end the blockade?”

Clarke watched this display, thin-lipped and nostrils flaring with her eyes locked on his, but she looked away when she began to speak. “I was in the woods on my own. I hunted. I traded. I survived. I had to get away from this, from them, but I’m sorry I left you, I-”

Bellamy climbed back to his feet and turned his back on her. He crossed the room as though he meant to leave, but when he reached the cell door he circled back around and resumed his pacing. “It doesn’t matter now. You left me here.” He winced violently at his own words, “but it doesn’t matter. What do we have to do to end the blockade?”

“I can handle Pike,” Clarke said instead, head high even as she continued to refuse to meet his eyes.

“What’s your plan then, Clarke?” Bellamy bit out, frustrated. “If the Commander’s not doing anything but something has to happen to end the blockade, who’s going to do it? Murphy?”

Clarke laughed. “Like Murphy would take orders from me.” Bellamy’s steely gaze didn’t soften, so Clarke sighed and shrugged. “He hasn’t even been in Polis. Ask Jaha. He’s been off with a Grounder named Emori mugging people in the streets.”

Bellamy deflated slightly but quickly puffed back up his chest. “I will. I’ll ask Murphy as well, make sure your stories corroborate with one another.”

“They will,” Clarke replied, unconcerned. “Tell Pike I’m ready for him as soon as he’s ready for me. I’m sorry, Bellamy, but-” and she faltered here. The mask dropped and when she looked back up at him, she was vulnerable. “I can’t tell you anymore.”

Bellamy stared for a long moment and then heaved a sigh. He shut the cell door behind him with a slam.

* * *

“Are you sure you two will be okay without me here?” Monty, with his arms crossed, pointedly asked Miller.

“I, for one,” Murphy loudly interjected from across the room, “am personally offended that you even have to-”

“We’ll be fine,” Harper sighed without so much as a glance towards Murphy who had trailed off in mock-offense.

“Stop picking at the bandage,” Abby scolded Jasper as she walked him across the med bay towards the door. “We’ll update you on the plan,” she reassured them both as Jasper left and Monty trailed after him in timid silence.

As soon as they were gone, Miller groaned. “If we ever get a plan,” he grumbled.

“We’ll have a plan,” Abby insisted. She had returned to her station and was busying herself with cleaning up the supplies she had used on Jasper. “We just need to set up a meeting with the Commander and explain to her that we’d love to comply but, unfortunately, our governments are set up in a completely differ-”

Murphy barked out a laugh, and Abby cut herself off to frown at him.

Before Abby could say anything more, Harper was nodding. “I don’t know that I’d argue with the Commander about this,” Harper agreed, and she stood and stretched as she thought. “I mean, as far as the Grounders are concerned, we’ve shorted them out of justice once before.” She looked up to the startled faces of the other three and shrugged apologetically. “It’s true. But Clarke was there to smooth it over. Pike’s responsible for a lot more deaths than Finn ever was, and I doubt the Grounders will be so quick to forgive again. I can’t blame them. Honestly, they’ve already well situated on the moral high ground by not demanding Bellamy’s head, too.”

“We can’t just hand him over to be executed!” Abby snapped, a roll of bandages gripped tightly in one hand.

“Why not?” Murphy asked from where he leaned against a door frame. “You and the rest of the council would have had no problems executing us once we turned 18. You did it with all the older kids in the Skybox who were not so lucky-” he paused to let his dripping sarcasm sink in, “as to make it down here before their birthdays.”

“He’s right,” Miller added and looked almost surprised that he was saying it as Murphy was to hear it. “If we were still in the sky, I’d already be dead; I turned 18 about a month ago. Clarke, too. Bellamy was already 18 when he attacked Jaha. You would have floated him then without another thought.”

The thin line of Abby’s lips indicated that she was not much closer to budging her position on the subject, but she was letting them talk, although her arms were clenched so tightly her tendons were visible.

“And it was pre-meditated,” Harper continued as though she had never stopped talking in the first place, now pacing the length of the room. “300 people sent to protect us, slaughtered in their sleep.” She looked up and caught Miller’s eyes. “I don’t know if I’d be able to forgive that if I was the Commander. Could you?”

Miller shook his head, and they both turned to look at Abby.

“Even if -” Abby started, and then preemptively held out her hands as though cutting off an expected a celebration, “Even if I agreed to this, there’s no way to get him to the Commander. He’s surrounded by his guards. We’d have no support.”

“So we look for an opportunity,” Murphy pointed out, and all three heads turned to him. He shrugged. “Pike’s gotta be alone sometime, right? I mean, does he shit with an armed guard?”

Harper wrinkled her nose, but Miller seemed to consider the idea.

Abby was willing to jump on any solution that didn’t involve marching one of her colleagues to his death. “Fine: if an opportunity arises, we’ll talk about it. But, in the meantime, we have another problem we need to get to the bottom of.”

* * *

Lexa stood on the balcony in the back of her throne room watching over the city of Polis. It was mid-day, and the city streets were still busy with the people of the city doing business amongst themselves. She found herself watching the stables with her head tipped to the sides and her eyes narrowed with the intensity of her gaze as though willing Clarke to ride up astride Lexa’s horse and dragging along the man who had ruined the coalition’s peace. Instead, the stables were quiet; the vast majority of the warriors had been sent to man the blockade, and the people left in their stead were almost exclusively untrained city dwellers. Behind her, a throat was cleared pointedly, but Lexa allowed herself several more beats of tranquil, quiet watching before she turned to face whatever new problem was demanding her attention in her throne room. She took a half step back in surprise, her heels edging close to the broken edge of the platform, to find Titus standing there.

His hands were clasped behind his back and his head was respectfully bowed. He still wore the robes of his position, but Titus stood with exponentially less presence and grandeur than he had less than a day ago. He was visibly uncomfortable and deferential; the twitching of his hands and the trembling of his shoulders clearly betrayed the terror he was fighting off.

“Titus,” Lexa said, and her voice was clear and steady. She walked to him with slow, measured paces and stopped several feet before him. She clasped her hands behind her back and then almost immediately released them and stood instead with her chin firm and her shoulders squared.

“ _Heda_ ,” Titus answered when the silence stretched on for longer than he could bear. “I have come as you requested. It has been a full day.”

“ _Ai get em in_ ,” she said, a hint of irritation with his redundant condescension creeping into her tone. “I would like to _wigod yu op_ , Titus,” she told him frankly, and she tried to hold her gaze steady on his down-turned face but, even with his eyes averted, her own eyes flickered down and away. The quiet stretched on for several moments before she spoke again. “ _Yu get klir ai no wigod yu op_.”

” _Sha, Heda_ ,” Titus agreed quickly, and his shoulders relaxed and his head drooped further with the relief of, at least, knowing his fate. “ _Ai get em in_.”

“Do you know what you think your punishment should be?” Lexa had regained herself. She held tightly to her bubbling disdain for him and slipped back into the guise of _Heda_ , the Commander who rules without emotion.

“ _Sha, Heda_.” He swallowed hard and, for the first time, looked up at her through the top of his bowed head. “The punishment for attempted murder is the same as if I had succeeded. _Ai bilaik de fraga. Wamplei_.”  
“ _Sha_ ,” Lexa agreed. Again, she allowed the silence to stretch on as she turned and firmly lowered herself onto her throne. She took time to settle herself, outwardly unconcerned. She smoothed the folds of her jacket around her and crossed her legs.

Compulsively, Titus dropped to his knees and upturned both his face and his hands towards Lexa. “ _Jus drein jus daun_.”

“ _Nou_ ,” Lexa said instantly, voice firm and the muscles in her jaw flickering. She uncrossed her legs and sat forward in her throne now, chest low and arms hanging from where they balanced on her knees. “ _Jus drein nou jus daun_.” She waited for his response to her mercy. Lexa sat peaceful, pensive, and patient, but Titus remained silent at her feet.

His trembling had begun anew. “ _Nou_?” He finally asked.

“ _Nou_ ,” Lexa agreed and heaved a sigh that told of the weight she carried. “You will not go without punishment, but no: _jus drein nou jus daun_. You will be stripped of your title; you cannot expect to maintain your position while bearing such a stain to your reputation. _Wanheda_ would not stand for it, and neither would I. I will, however, spare your life as I believe she would wish me to. _Wanheda_ has been nothing less than a second chance to me, so despite your attempts to take her from me, you will be given a second chance in kind. You will be given the opportunity to stay on as _shouna_ of the _natblidas_.” She shifted in her chair with the slow onset of discomfort; he was quivering violently, staring up at her with wet, wide eyes. “This will be your chance to redeem yourself.”

“I will, _Heda_ , I will,” Titus said, with all the passion of a zealot. “And I will see to my replacement as _fleimkepa_ immediately.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lexa said, and she rose her hand to dismiss him.

He stood and turned to go, but there was a knock on the door and then it was shouldered open.

Lexa licked her lips. “ _Haihefa_ Roan,” she greeted.

Roan grinned and only briefly dipped his head before looping his arm around the shoulders of Ontari, who trailed broodingly beside him. “ _Heda_ ,” he responded. “I’ve brought you a gift.”

* * *

“Hey Corrigan!” Miller called as he headed down the hall towards the guard. “Out to gate duty, I’ll take over here.”

Corrigan frowned, looking back to the Grounders in the cell behind him.

“Aww, don’t worry about it,” Miller said with a grin as he got up to the gate and bumped Corrigan playfully with his shoulder. “If you want, you can head to mess and get dinner early.”

Corrigan nodded and hesitated only a moment longer before going down the same hallway that Miller had used.

Soon after he turned the corner, Murphy and Abby rounded it themselves, and Miller gave them a thumbs up from his position in front of the cell door to let them know it was all clear.

“What’s going on?” Lincoln asked through the cell just behind Miller’s shoulder.

Miller, in turn, startled violently. “Jesus, Lincoln. Abby and Murphy have some questions for you. Here you go, ask them yourself.”

Murphy mockingly saluted to Lincoln as he stepped up to the bars. “Long time no see,” he said, voice monotone.

“Agreed,” Lincoln said with disinterest, his eyes on Abby.

She smiled fondly at him. “I’ve got good news, Lincoln. Well, good news and a couple of questions.”

“Heavy on the questions,” Murphy interjected as he stepped up to the cell and wrapped his hands around the bars. “You know, a setting like this really takes me back. I-”

“Enough, Murphy,” Abby snapped, and Miller snorted. “We’re short on time.”

Murphy pointedly glared at Miller, then turned back to Lincoln with a sigh. “Look, we’re juggling about a dozen balls right now, and you’re our best shot at one of them while we wait for the others to fall.”

“This hasn’t got to do with-” Miller cut himself off, turning to double check that the coast was clear before he turned back to Murphy. “With Pike?”

“No,” Abby replied before Murphy could, seeing the irritation on his face. “We have to wait a little while, at least until some of the suspicion of Clarke blows over, so I can get in to see her.”

Lincoln had been watching all of this calmly, face placid as he waited for Murphy to arrive at the point, but now he was interested. He leaned in and wrapped his hands around the bars just outside of where Murphy’s hands rested. “What can I do to help?”

“We have some theories,” Abby started, “but mostly we just need to know more about your culture - specifically your religion.”

Lincoln shrugged. “That’s a big topic. Aren’t you short on time? I don’t think I’m qualified to give you a sermon.”

“We’re not looking for a sermon,” Abby quickly reassured him. “We’re just looking for a little information. Have you ever seen one of these?” From the depths of her pocket, but not before surreptitiously checking around her for anyone coming despite Miller’s cautious watch, she produced one of Jaha’s chips.

“No,” Lincoln answered without hesitation. He held out his hand for it, and Abby dropped it into his palm to allow him to inspect it more closely. “This is higher tech than I’ve ever seen with anyone other than _Skaikru_. I recognize the symbol on it though.” He looked up and peered, narrow eyed, at Abby through the bars. “Where did you get this? This is sacred. You shouldn’t have it.”

“Haven’t I heard that before?” Murphy sighed and rested his head against the bars of the cell. “Jaha gave them to us. He’s been giving them to everyone, one by one. Says you’re supposed to take them like a pill, and suddenly you’re connected to this mystical city where all your problems magically disappear.” He shrugged. “It sounds pretty great to be honest which means it’s definitely a lie.”

“So we need to know,” Abby interjected, attempting to drag the conversation back on track with her hands lightly looped around the bars of Lincoln’s cell, “why your sacred symbol might be on a piece of what looks like our tech.”

“I don’t know.” Lincoln sighed as he passed the chip back to Abby. He brushed the back of his hand along the stubble on his chin as he thought seriously for a moment. “ _Bekka Pramheda_ was our first _Heda_ , and the symbol began with her. It speaks to reincarnation, to the flame of _Heda_. Our Commanders never truly die, as your Chancellors do. The flame is merely passed onto whichever _natblida_ wins the conclave at the passing of the preceding _Heda_.”

“The conclave?” Abby asked.

Lincoln shook his head. “No one but those close to _Heda_ and the _natblidas_ , of course, know exactly what it entails, but it decides the _Heda_ whenever the current one passes away.”

“Not a long lifespan for _Heda_ s, then, I’m guessing,” Murphy said idly.

Miller, despite himself, chuckled.

“So, you believe in reincarnation,” Abby clarified with the edges of derision clear in her voice.

“More or less,” Lincoln agreed, as friendly as ever. “We believe that the _keryon_ of _Heda_ chooses and guides the _Heda_ s that follow her.”

“Then we’re back where we started again. What’s an ancient, spiritual symbol like that doing on a piece of tech like this?”

Murphy asked as he took the chip from Abby’s fist, “Unless your Becca was part of Polaris?”

“Polaris?” Lincoln asked and then smiled gently in realization. “You mean Polis.”

“No,” Abby corrected. “He means Polaris. It was our 13th station; it was shot out of the sky before the Ark was formed, in the early days just after the bombs.” She hesitated. “But, it’s possible, that if Becca was on board Polaris and knew that the Ark’s attack was coming-” Abby trailed off in thought.

“But she still couldn’t have survived the radiation, especially so soon, even if she made it back to the ground,” Miller continued.

Lincoln seemed to consider it and then shrugged. “My ancestors did. Why couldn’t she?”

* * *

Jackson waved to the patient leaving the med bay and then turned to face the empty room with a vague sort of smile. He waited, standing perfectly still, until the sound of footsteps had faded completely from earshot before he moved across the room to drop to his knees and begin to dig through a cabinet. Neat and methodical in his search, Jackson placed each thing he set to the side and then replaced it where he’d found it. Eventually, towards the back of the cabinet, he found what he was looking for: a brown, drawstring bag that clinked like salvation in his hands.

He replaced everything in the cabinet, double checked to make sure that everything was as it had been, and then stood. Jackson dropped the bag down into his pocket, closed the cabinet, and left the room with the same vague smile that had been plastered across his face the entire time.

* * *

Indra spotted and recognized Octavia before she was within speaking distance. She raised her hand to give Octavia a brief wave, causing Kane to look back towards Octavia and do the same, but continued to speak to Kane.

Octavia spurred Helios forward, leaning forward in the saddle, even as her frantic panting slowed. “Hey,” she called out as soon as she could be heard. “Thank God you were here, Indra.”

“He is very lucky,” Indra agreed, tipping her head thoughtfully towards Kane with the edges of a smile on her face.

Kane, for his part, shrugged. “I’m very grateful to have people watching out for me.”

Octavia gracefully dismounted, walking the last few steps towards Indra and Kane tugging Helios’ lead behind her. “It’s not safe out here,” she told Kane, and Indra nodded.

“That’s just what I was telling him.” Indra agreed.

“Besides, you have work to do back at camp,” Octavia continued.

“Oh?” Kane asked, shifting Selu’s lead anxiously from hand to hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Pike,” Octavia said darkly, and Indra, unable to contain her distaste, scoffed. “This blockade Indra has protected you from; it’s _Heda_ ’s doing, and it’ll stay up until she has Pike. She demands reparations for his massacre.”

Kane licked his lips and looked away, nervous. “We can’t just hand him over to her brand of justice. It’s…” he trailed off, unsure of the right word, especially in front of Indra.

“As inhumane as killing 299 protectors in their sleep?” Indra hissed, and she took a step closer to Kane. “I have protected you today, Marcus, and now it is your turn to protect me and my people.”

Kane looked up at her through the top of his head and nodded. “You’re right, Indra. Arkadia is clearly not dealing with Pike’s crime, and _Heda_ would have cause to go to war against us for,” he paused, still anxious, “what happened.”

“I can’t go back,” Octavia suddenly interjected, stepping back to run her hands through Helios’ mane in a carefully constructed front of nonchalance. “The only reason I’m here now is Miller and Monty found me. As soon as I entered the gates, Bell dragged me away and cuffed me to my bed.”

Indra stepped back, affronted on Octavia’s behalf, and Kane just briskly shook his head in irritation.

“Bellamy’s out of control,” Kane said quietly. “If only we could get him out from under Pike’s thumb, I think we could make him see the light.”

Octavia scoffed. “Bell hasn’t seen the light since I was born.”

Kane again averted his eyes, feeling the guilt of Octavia’s words weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Octavia, for her part, seemed unconcerned by the unhappy memories.. “I’ll be staying out here tonight and for the next few nights until it’s safe for me to go back. If I went back now, Bellamy would just lock me up again. I’ll keep between the blockade and Arkadia’s gates, find somewhere to stay.”

“I don’t know-” Kane started.

“She’ll be fine,” Indra interrupted. “I can give her some extra supplies. It’s safer for her out here than it is in there with her _foto bro_.”

Octavia nodded. “But you,” she said to Kane, “need to go back. I don’t know if Clarke…You need to get Pike to _Heda_. And somebody has to watch out for my brother. The idiot might just wander over the line without someone looking out for him.”

Kane cracked a sad smile. “They’ll just throw me in jail too.”

“Then you can conspire with Clarke,” Octavia said dismissively with a wave of her hand. “That’s where I hear she is, anyway.”

“Clarke’s home?” Kane asked, surprised, and Octavia shrugged.

“So I’ve heard. Hardly anyone’s seen her. She stepped in the gates and was thrown directly into lock-up, apparently. Either way, you’ll get to see her. Do you still have your walkie?”

Kane nodded and fished it out of his saddle bag to show her.

“Me too,” Octavia produced hers from the pocket of her jacket. “If things change, or you need something from the outside, then you know how to contact me. If you ever get out of the box, that is. Get Pike to _Heda_ , get Lincoln out of lock-up, and keep an eye on my brother.”

“Tall orders,” Kane grumbled, but he was already awkwardly scrambling back up onto Selu. “Thank you again, Indra.”

“You’ll be fine,” Indra reassured him, and she patted the flank of Selu as he wheeled her around to head back to Arkadia. She stood together quietly with Octavia and Helios, watching Kane trot away a moment before she turned towards her second. “You will be, too.”

“Hmm?” Octavia hummed without looking away from Kane’s retreating figure.

“I said that you will be okay, Octavia.”

“Oh, I know,” Octavia said and turned to focus a bright smile on Indra. “I’ve slept out below the stars plenty before, with Lincoln and-”

“That is not what I mean,” Indra interrupted, her face stern.

Octavia’s smile fell only slightly. “Oh,” she said quietly, at a loss for words.

Indra reached out haltingly with her good arm and brushed it across Octavia’s shoulder. “You will overcome your brother. You will surpass his hatred.”

Octavia’s brows knitted. “I hope so,” she murmured.

* * *

“Hey,” Murphy said as he slid into the empty seat at the cafeteria table across from Bellamy. “Not hungry?”

Bellamy, who had been picking listlessly at his plate with his chin braced in his free hand, looked up towards Murphy suspiciously. “Murphy,” he said by way of both greeting and threat. “What are you doing here?”

“Eating dinner,” Murphy said slowly, his eyebrows raised and voice thick with mocking before he dove into his own meal. “What’re you doing? Moping?”

“I am not-” Bellamy started and then sighed, glared down his fork, and started over. “I mean, what are you doing here? The Ark? Last I knew you’d wandered off into the desert.”

Murphy shrugged. “Been there, done that. It was really not ideal, so I decided to come back to this shit hole instead. At least there’s steady food and water here, you know?”

Bellamy frowned at him, eyebrows knit.

“You just don’t realize how important reliable water is until you’re handing the last of yours to the first pretty girl that you see,” Murphy continued without apparently noticing Bellamy’s hesitation.

Bellamy was blankly staring now, lips parted and eyes worried.

Murphy heaved a sigh that could only be described as long suffering. “Look, I didn’t plan on coming back either, okay, and I’m sorry to bother you with my existence, but we obviously can’t all get what we want.”

The corners of Bellamy’s mouth flickered up at that. “Fair enough,” he allowed, and he finally resumed picking at his food. “Have you got plans to run off again any time soon? Just so I can, you know, brace myself this time?”

Murphy grimaced. “I’d like to, but my partner in crime is MIA.”

“Partner in crime?” Bellamy questioned semi-seriously but without looking up from his plate. “I’m on the guard now, so if-”

Murphy waved his hand dismissively. “It’s just an expression, Blake, come on. Be cool. You know me,” he smirked, “I’d never commit a crime.”

Bellamy chuckled genuinely, a smile spreading across his face. “The pretty girl who conned you out of the last of your water?” He guessed.

“I’m telling you, give a girl something for her to drink in the desert and she’s yours forever. After she knocks you out cold once or twice.” Murphy hid his smile in a long swig of water, but couldn’t hold back his chuckle when Bellamy began to belly laugh.

“I don’t know if you’re making this up, and I don’t know that I care,” Bellamy said once he caught his breath. “So you’re saying that we’ve been here, barely scraping by, and you’ve been out romancing?”

“Something like that,” Murphy said with a shrug and the edge of a smile. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been doing the same. We all know you sleep around, and you have plenty of water here, so don’t act like there hasn’t been a lady.”

Bellamy instantly sobered, setting his metal cup down with a clank and scraping his chair back as though to leave. He hesitated when Murphy only watched quietly and made no move to stop him and finally scooted his chair back in with his shoulders slumped towards the table and his hands limp in his lap.

“Sorry,” Murphy murmured. “I didn’t know, I…” he trailed off. “Clarke?” He hazarded a guess.

Bellamy scowled as he forced out a laugh. “Of course not. That’s disgusting. She’s almost like Octavia to me.” The subject of his sister was, unfortunately, not that much less sensitive; Bellamy hadn’t righted his posture and now a curl of his lip showed his current irritation with the subject of the two women.

Murphy smirked. “You wouldn’t go for that? Because I could definitely-”

“Shut up, Murphy,”Bellamy said, but he was back to almost smiling again.

“So, just to clarify, that’s a no on Griffin?” Murphy waved his hand in a grand gesture aimed somewhere towards Bellamy’s face but that ended up with Murphy rubbing his chin. “Because if you’re not gonna go after th-”

“Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled, back to eating his stew with a smile around his spoon. “Shut up.”

“Alright, alright,” Murphy relented, smiling smugly as he, too, returned to his meal. “Man, hearing you tell me to shut up is really taking me back. It’s just like old times around here. Except earlier today I said ‘Whatever the hell I want,’ and Miller just about jumped down my throat.”

Bellamy waved his spoon absently at him. “He’s been upset with you ever since you left. He’ll come around.”

Murphy sighed and pushed his chair back from the table. “Will he though?”

Bellamy quirked an eyebrow.

“Come around?” Murphy was playing at being disinterested, stooping over the table and to gather up his dishes and his tray.

Bellamy leaned conspiratorially towards him across the table and laced his hands together as he thought. “We’ll see,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “Either way you’ve got me, though.”

Murphy huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess I’ve got you.”

* * *

Kane rode into the Ark fighting down nervousness that showed nevertheless in the curled fists of his hands and the nervous flicker of his eyes. He was allowed back through the gates without fuss, but Miller came down from the guard tower almost immediately to intercept him. Neither one looked please to see the other.

“I’m gonna need you to come with me,” Miller said quietly, as one of the other guards took Selu’s reins from Kane. Miller’s mouth was close to Kane’s ear, and Kane nodded.

He was stoic; his brows were furrowed and his eyes blazed, but his expression was relaxed. “Of course,” he said loudly and pointedly.

Miller looped his hand around Kane’s bicep, more for show than with any real force, and began to lead him into the wrecked depths of the Ark. They walked in silence. Kane’s head was deferentially lowered, and Miller was making eye contact with and nodding at everyone they passed. They reached the converted cell room next to the public lock-up quickly, and Miller muttered a few quiet words to the guard outside the door as Kane respectfully looked away.

The door was opened, and Kane strode confidently inside.

Clarke scrambled to her feet as the door closed behind Kane with a weighty click.

“Clarke,” Kane said with a genuine smile. “It’s so good to see you; I just wish we had met under better circumstances.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natrona: Traitor  
> Heda: Commander - Lexa  
> Ai get em in: I know.  
> Wigod yu op: Forgive you.  
> Yu get klir ai no wigod yu op: You know I cannot forgive you.  
> Sha: Yes.  
> Ai bilaik de fraga. Wamplei. : I am a murderer. Death.  
> Jus drein jus daun: Blood must have blood.  
> Nou: No.  
> Jus drein nou jus daun: Blood must not have blood.  
> Wanheda: Commander of death - Clarke.  
> Shouna: Advisor  
> Natblidas: Nightbloods, Grounders with black blood who could be Commander  
> Fleimkepa: Advisor to Heda and protector of the fleim.  
> Haihefa: King  
> Skaikru: The people of the Ark  
> Pramheda: First commander  
> Keryon: Spirit  
> Foto bro: Evil brother

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me over on tumblr, where I am murphysvictim.


End file.
